He merely stared past me, as if meeting my eye would destroy his already thin resolve.
“I know someone who can help,” I insisted.
August’s mouth cut a thin line as he finally slid his gaze to me, his dark eyes burning with restrained emotion. “If you’re referring to Casimir Wrayburn,” he glared at me, “he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
The malice in his voice was unmistakable. He hated Casimir, but why?
“You don’t even know him,” I argued. “He can help?—”
“Are you so naive as to think that he really wants to help you?” he cut in. “For once, you need to listen to me, Arden. He’s dangerous. Stay away from Devereaux and Casimir and don’t involve yourself in Order business.”
Unbidden, Casimir’s words reverberated through my skull:If we’d never met, you’d likely already be dead, Farrow.
I bit back a snide retort, though I suspected August already knew I was furious. He knew me too well. He could be so fucking patronizing sometimes. “Why not?” I challenged. “Casimir wants to stop the Order from whatever ritual it is they’re planning, and he’s sworn to help us.” Unconsciously, I scratched at my leg, where proof of my bargain with Casimir lay just beneath my jeans.
“Why would he want your help?” August snarled. His expression shifted a moment later, and I knew the question had come out more scathing than he’d intended. Realizing this, he tried to backtrack, but the damage was done. “Arden, please listen—” he began, but I cut him off.
“Save it, August.” I laughed humorlessly. “You must think I’m such a fool,” I realized the truth of it the moment the words fell from my lips.
“I don’t think?—”
“Youdo. You refuse to listen to me. You think I’m some naïve,stupid—” I exhaled sharply. “Look. Casimir promised to help, and he won’t go back on his word.”
A tense beat passed during which we only glared at one another. August’s face was so contorted by exasperation and resentment that he was almost unrecognizable. Gone was the boy with the slash of red hair and easy laugh who loved to dress impeccably and lead the class in noisome debates; the boy who assiduously and patiently dueled with me on the fencing piste. In his place stood a scared, desperate man.
The next words out of his mouth cut through the air like a scythe. “Fine, you say he can help. But what did you promise him in return?”
I didn’t answer, and August took advantage of my momentary silence to add, “Who’s to say he won’t destroy you in the process?”
Confusion and hurt wracked me as I absorbed his warning. What the fuck did he mean by that? Did he know Casimir was a Daemon? Sure, Casimir was dangerous—he’d told me so himself. But he wouldn’t hurt me. Initially, he’d even wanted me to stay away from the Order, but I was tired of being told what to do. I met August’s iron gaze with an expression of equally steely resolve.
“Hewon’t.”
August stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Has he even bothered to tell you the truth about what he is?”
My stomach dropped like a stone.He knew.How could he know? Had Devereaux told him? Anger flared in my veins at the condescension in August’s tone, at his assumption that Casimir would have kept me in the dark about his true nature. A wave of uncertainty crashed up against my growing resentment, and I wondered,was there something else Casimir wasn’t telling me?
“He’s told me everything,” I insisted. But even I could hear the note of doubt in my voice.
August met this declaration with surprise, which briefly flared across his visage, and which was quickly followed by a skeptical frown. “He’s told you what he is?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And you still want to work with him?”
“I know that he’s a Daemon, if that’s what you mean,” I replied stiffly. “I know that the Bloodthorn Order are all Daemons, and I know about their powers. Their glamours.”
August laughed, though the sound was utterly devoid of humor. “That’s a no then.” He gave a derisive snort.
The knot of uncertainty in my stomach twisted more tightly.
August appeared more disappointed than scornful, however, as if he’d expected nothing less from me. That flash of pity in his eyes was confirmation. It clearly said,poor Arden has once again been taken for a fool. Like a punch to the gut, it left me speechless.
Before I could recover, he was speaking again. “You are the last person who should be involved in this. I can’t believe he’s allowing it.”
Allowing it? My cheeks burned with indignation at the implication. “I’m not some child to be ordered around! I can make my own decisions.” But doubt buzzed at the back of my mind, demanding my attention. What did August know? What wasn’t Casimir telling me?
You are the last person who should go anywhere near the Bloodthorn Order.
August had repeated Casimir’s warning almost word for word. It was too much of a coincidence to assume it had something to do with my own weakness.
Right now, August seemed to be fighting some inner battle with himself. He kept his voice steady, but a tremulous undertone told me we were veering toward dangerous territory. “You shouldn’t trust him,” he said, his jaw flexing just beneath the skin. “Whatever Wrayburn told you, he can’t protect you.” He shook his head in disappointment. “I thought you were smarter than this, Arden.”